


Fate Rewritten With Crimson Ink

by Eve_LaBlanche



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, Assault, Bittersweet Ending, F/M, Family Issues, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Murder, Partner Betrayal, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-17 05:48:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11269206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eve_LaBlanche/pseuds/Eve_LaBlanche
Summary: Following unwilling surrender to Validar's mind control, Lucina is faced with a dizzying decision: does she leave the future and her father vulnerable certain death, or take the life of her first love? The choice is all hers, unfortunately...why is fate so cruel?





	Fate Rewritten With Crimson Ink

**Author's Note:**

> **Heads up!** This work will contain the following:
> 
> -Murder of major character(s)  
> -Suicide/self-sacrifice  
> -Violence  
> -Brief graphic depiction blood  
> -Plot spoilers (not sure which chapter...see work summary)
> 
> If you do not feel comfortable reading such material, I recommend not reading this work!
> 
> A/N: Please take note that this work does not follow the exact scene that takes place in the story. I have not paired Robin and Lucina in the game, nor have I watched the scene that occurs with the two paired. Any lines replicating the script or another person's fan art, fanfiction, etc. is entirely coincidental.

_Fate is a river. Its grievous current ceases not for the likes of one or even the likes of many. In my case, fate is a river so stubborn and recalcitrant that the lives and suffering of mankind are not a reason enough for it to alter its course. Tributary streams flow into such a river—you may change the river source and you may refine its journey, but its destination remains ineluctable. Only an event of inconceivable trauma holds the power to divert the river—to change the destination—to rewrite fate. Such a phenomenon requires the hand of gods to join with the hands of mortals. The gods can only go so far before the torch is passed to mankind, where each decision is critical. Some come easily, some come at the cost of excruciating sorrow..._

* * *

I bore witness to it firsthand. I watched him with the wide eyes of an astounded lover. I watched the free will in his soul get overridden by the damned sorcery at Validar's fingertips. That degenerate took dominion over him like a callous puppetmaster.

Never has the next course of action been so obvious. Fie! But never have a been so averse to the cruel truth! That must be a manifestation of my father. I contemptuously bit my lip as I watched Chrom try to spare his sister in exchange for the demise of mankind. Now, I stand with a hauntingly similar judgment at hand. Mentally, I accused him of being selfish and imprudent. And akin to my father, the logical choice is unjust and immoral.

It's twilight now. The setting sun ignited the night sky into a golden sea of flames. Beautiful and fervorous. Nothing can foretell a promising tomorrow like a brilliant sunset. Mother and Father observe it together. Never before have I seen such juvenile romance blossom out of my parents. Mother has always been a genial soul, but gods! she acts like a crushing teenager! She struggles to communicate with Father; her hands relentlessly play with the tips of her brown hair. Father always used to taunt her about her clumsiness, but in the future, she didn't stumble over her own feet every quarter hour! On the contrary, other than his complacency, Father parallels his future self. He is protective and chivalrous, with his hand faceted to Mother's waist. His whispers carry over to my ears, chanting her name incessantly. "Sumia," he'd say while the rest becomes imperceptible in the distance.

The remaining Shepherds do much of the same; watching the descending sun with a partner, either romantic or platonic. With the stakes higher than ever before, they seek solace in the simplest of pleasures. It is with profound regret that I admit haven't a clue as to where my partner went. Since my father was the last to speak to him, he has the best idea of his whereabouts. Oh, but how ill-mannered of me to disturb husband and wife, even if they are my parents!

Nonsense. Father would never be cross for something as trivial as that. I'm well aware. I wish only to stall out my task. I am no foreseer, but I've suspected my partner and his mysterious origin from the moment I first made eye contact. Gods have mercy, for I overestimated my ability to resist temptation. Our fondness for each other grew, but I always remembered my theory, one that time has been proven to me.

I know not if I can do it, but may the gods grant me the courage to at least speak with him.

I approach Father, trotting across the camp to the picturesque spot he had selected in an attempt to stay resolute. He and Mother glance up to me from their seat on the verdant grass. "Father? Forgive my intrusion..."

"Of course, Lucina," says he. "What can I do for you?"

"Have you any clue where Robin has gone? There are matters pertaining to the next couple of weeks that I wish to discuss with him."

"I last saw him south of here, from what I recall. He was in a fit of sorrow from what happened earlier." He takes a glance at me and follows up with "Should I worry? Is everything alright?"

"Of course, Father. There is no reason for concern." I take a glance at Mother; her attention is focused on her fingers, weaving quickly back and forth whilst she prepared another of her signature floral crowns. "Good evening, Mother," I greet her briefly.

She flashes a smile and a quick "Good evening!" in return.

"For whom is that flower crown?" I inquire.

"Lissa saw the one I made for Chrom and she loved it! So I told her I'd make one as soon as I could." Her voice, so youthful and cordial, rings like the song of sparrows at dawn.

Father chortles. "You and Robin best behave yourselves," taunts father, to my slight amusement. In the future, he would always become cynical about my potential suitors, the few that there were. What kind of father wouldn't want to keep his daughter free from harm? I never expected his affability with my courtship.

"But of course, Father. I love you." In retrospect, my comment seemed a bit out of place, evident by my father's slight confusion from the phrase.

"I love you too," he replied, nonetheless wholeheartedly.

With a hand on my sword, I make haste due south, pondering the irony. Robin hasn't the slightest inclination to betray or hurt one whom he loves, yet Father warns me. And in all veracity, _I_ should be the one that Father is concerned about.

His image appears on the horizon. As one could easily predict, he is practicing his magic. Conjurations of all sorts and colors come flying from his fingertips and into the air, nearly outperforming the sky. My heart violently beats in my chest, not akin to the rush of adrenaline that one feels in the presence of a lover, but akin to the sensation one experiences as the bearer of dire news that one would prefer to keep undelivered.

"Robin," I say, my voice trampled by the sounds of spells being cast. "I apologize for interrupting your training. Might I have a moment?"

He halts immediately upon hearing my voice, promptly closing his book. "Anything for you," he replies. "To what do I owe the pleasure, my love?"

His speech reminds me instantly of why my heart gravitated to him in the first place. So agreeable is he that no matter the circumstance, even amidst thorough concentration, he finds time to speak to me. And how lovely his voice is—youthful and gentlemanly, yet deep and distinguished. He is an outstanding lover.

My focus has already been swayed, for heaven's sake.

"I've been worried sick not knowing where you run off to. My father was the only one who was aware."

"Heh, sorry about that. I thought I had some time to myself, so I figured I needed not to tell anyone."

"Very well," I say and grin awkwardly.

"Something the matter? Is there a reason why you were looking for me?"

"No," I reply quickly in agitation.

"If I remember correctly, you had claimed to be 'quite the actress,' did you not?"

I grin. "If I did, what, pray, would be the relevance?"

"Call me rash to say if you were to make that claim now, I'd call it a false one." He smiles endearingly, flustering me once more, but gravely, he continues, "Lucina, come on. I know you better than that. What is the matter?"

I stare, my voice bleak and inaudible. "...Ah, forgive me..." I've always considered myself astute and stable from an emotional standpoint. My father in this timeline has been the only one to overwhelm me to the point of weeping. And now, I can feel the hindering sting of tears filling my eyes. But I must stay resolute! This is _my_ fate, to protect my father and secure my future. Love was never a fate of mine to indulge in, for look how it impedes my true fate...

"Take my hand," Robin cooes, his fingers outstretched, palm skyward. "You can always come to me with your hardships, I promise you. That's what friends—and lovers—are for."

Begrudgingly I accept. My palms, rough and calloused from years of combat, feel purified in his soft ones, enveloping mine. The consoling motives he possesses are tainted by my own sinister ones. He scrutinizes my semblance of calmness, quickly seeing right through it.

"What's wrong?"

"I can assure you...it's beyond your control, and we need not speak of it any longer."

"All I can ask is that you be honest with me." He knows how I'm feeling, as he always does. His words were chosen to spite me into confessing, but I shall not. Gods have mercy... "Come, let's walk together. Keep your mind off of the bad."

A sad smile appears on my face. His oblivion breaks my heart, but naturally, I agree. I owe it to us both. "Alright."

I follow his lead quietly and to the forest's edge, we go. In relief and relaxation, he sighs, I assume in response to the glittering sunlight that enchanted the whole world.

"Isn't something like this remarkable?" says he. Upon further inspection, we find a large, plateaued rock, where he escorts me. "The sun is amazing...look at the world of color it creates! Imagine how much energy it takes to keep it burning. It would take all of the mages in the world to make a fraction of the light the sun makes."

I chuckle as we perch ourselves on the rock. "Only a mind like yours could conjure an idea like that."

"Thanks...I think." Robin is always thinking of random, aspirational thoughts like that. A fortnight ago, he had read a fable; it stated that when mankind was first created, the gods constructed them with two heads, four arms, four legs et cetera—but soon, they feared that man would have too much power. As a result, they tore each human in half and separated them. The two humans were true lovers and spent their days in search of one another. While I countered him, testifying that if such a story were true, then I couldn't be his match (for I am from a different timeline,) he was incessant in proclaiming the truth of the fable and finding a way to disprove the paradox.

"Lucina?" So immersed was I in my nostalgia that it takes Robin to tap my shoulder before I acknowledge him.

"Huh? I beg your pardon?"

"You love me, right?"

To this, I reply in disbelief, "Do I love you? Why in Naga's name would you have doubt?"

"When I first saw you, you looked distraught. You claimed that you needed me for a moment, but now you're too bashful to say anything. And, well...part of me worried that you were going to break up with me, but lost your words when coming face-to-face with me. It's...silly, I know."

"Oh, Robin...You could not be farther from the truth!" My hand coils tightly around his wrist, tight like a noose, in my barely lucrative efforts to console him. "Pray heed my words, Robin. I shall love you as long as I draw breath...and even then, I shall die knowing that my heart has beaten for you."

I glance up to my lover only to be greeted with a smile, stretching from ear to ear. "Lucina...my love for you is as vast as the heavens itself, too large to be put into words or numbers. Should the sun be fueled by the fondness we share for one another, it will shine on until time itself ceases to exist."

It astounds me how my deepest declaration of love merely makes him smile whilst his one of many poetic compliments paints scarlet on my cheeks. Amidst my silence, I simply stare at him in a strange mixture of passion and regret—passion from my bountiful attraction for him, and, of course, the regret of losing him. Oh, gods, for this is perchance the last time we will declare our undying affection for one another. This may be the last time we hold hands—the last time we lustfully gaze into each other's eyes and mark our attraction with a kiss, arms wrapping the other in comfort. The grim realization resonates deep within me...alas, here come the tears...

Robin's face parts from mine slightly causing my pressing closer. I can tell this takes him by slight surprise but he graciously receives the prolonged kiss. His hand reaches into my navy blue hair, entangling his fingers into its layers and holding me against him. Somewhere throughout, I subconsciously crawled over so that my legs straddle his slender yet defined torso. The position is far more lascivious than my morals would allow, especially in a public setting, but should this be our last embrace, I wish for it to be of some worth. My advances are again praised in his affectionate touch, trailing down to my lower back. His thumb brushes across my vertebrae and sends vexing impulses up my spine. My breath hitches and tears quickly spill over onto my cheeks. Never has a touch so gentle caused me to weep.

He detects my grieving aura and retracts. "Lucina?" he inquires, using the edge of his sleeve to cleanse my skin. "I can't ignore your... unusual behavior. I now am beginning to worry even more."

My own picturesque romance has been foiled. The atmosphere has been dampened by my tears. Damn! My stinging eyes surrender, as does my dignity, as a choke on my next words in a fit of sobs. "Robin...I love you...please...p-promise me that you'll never...allow that thought to leave you...no matter what..."

His hands join mine. I look down at them for consolation, but instead, all that I see is an unholy mark upon there. The tattoo, the one which I never interrogated about, for his amnesia withheld the memory. Six eyes glare up at me, full of malice, but they seem so familiar.

_Grima._

_Those eyes are Grima's eyes!_

_And Validar..._

"Oh...oh gods, no..." I croak, not permitting my lover to reply. Every anecdotal remark I heard was now more evident than ever, my preconceived theory proven. I've never once resented being in the right more than now. I quickly stumble away from his arms and off of the rock I had mounted, taking cautious steps away. How repugnant of me, cowering away from him like he desired to hurt me. But no...his clueless face makes it all more difficult, to tell the truth.

"Lucina! I cannot stand to see you like this! What is the matter with you?" He begins to rise, but I throw my hand out to him.

"Soft! Do not move! And do not speak!" I shout. I draw my blade, to my own horror. I cannot allow fate to repeat the grave mistakes once more...what's the suffering of one in comparison to the demise of many? I point my Falchion at my lover from a half a dozen feet away, the blade trembling in my shaking palms.

I close my eyes to hold my tears and also to shield myself against the bewilderment and pain certain to be on his face. "You must be beyond confused...astonished...hurt...all of which I understand, but I prithee, listen..." My voice quavers and with a reluctant gulp, I proceed. "What I witnessed today...with your surrender to Validar's sorcery has confirmed what I suspected for years in this realm. My people have told me that my father died at the hands of someone close to him, one of his dearest friends. My father is our only hope in securing the future...your death will not be in vain, Robin, but my purpose is now clear."

I peek my eyes open to take a glimpse of his face. He's not cross with me, nor defensive...he looks only hurt, the worst of the three. My own surplus of tears give way again, falling in droplets to the ground below. "This is...insane! Madness!" he says softly. "There has to be another way, Lucina, this doesn't need to—"

"It's you...you are my father's murderer! Don't you see?" What little resolve I had is dissipating rapidly. "Of course you cannot see...but you cannot coexist with him..."

"This can't be how this ends!" exclaimed he, now indignant, but to this, I reply with indignation of my own,

"Do not make this harder than it already is! I must lose one of the two men I love most in my life. Please, I beg of you Robin, do not resist..."

The world fell uncomfortably silent. The sun, now fading from view, was turning the skies crimson. Birds ceased their singing; the crickets have yet to begin their chirping. The wind in my hair is the only natural sound to be heard, accompanied by the thudding of my fervorous heart.

Robin is silent, too, embedded in his own consciousness, gears shifting. The look in his eyes is desolate, but in his heart, I believe he knows what the true choice is.

"Fine..." he settles, making me gasp where I stand. "Take my life, Lucina. For the people of Ylisse, for the people of this world. I'm but single drop in the ocean. If I can sacrifice myself for the wellbeing of man...so be it."

Part of me—no—all of me hoped that he would resist, despite my telling him not to do so. I hoped he would deny and proclaim his love once more, demonstrate his perseverance, as futile as it may be. I hoped he would kiss me and assure me that I was wrong, and I'd apologize and beg for forgiveness. But this is not a fairy tale...I know what I must do.

"...May the gods have mercy on your soul, dearest Robin." Gods have mercy on me as well. I take the daring steps closer to my lover, shaking no less than before. Tears flow infinitely from my eyes like a conduit. "May I see you again, when all of this chaos subsides, when my time comes as well."

"I love you, Lucina," he whispers.

"Gods...don't say it..."

"I'd gladly give my life if it means your security—"

"Robin, speak no more!" I cry, convulsing like I've been struck by a blow of Arcthunder. "Speak...no more..."

My sword hovers above his shoulder. He's but an arm's length away from me. I could reach out to him and touch his face. I can see his every feature, the individual hairs on his eyebrows—the curve of his lips—the gradient color of his irises—the glimmer in the whites of his eyes from his own lamentation. An influx of memories crashes over me as I watch those eyes. They are the same eyes that I met back in the forest when I first arrived here, and the ones for whom I confessed my loves and the ones who watched my body as I sinned for the first time...

"Goodbye, love...never forget..."

"I won't."

I watch only as much as I have to, to align my sword with the center of his neck before I look away. I'm a traitor and a murderer...this is against the principles that I was raised to follow. But alas, what must be done...will be done. My eyes break from his and seamlessly...effortlessly...Falchion passes through his soft skin.

I take my lover's life.

No screams.

No curses.

No fighting.

The only auditory signal of his death was his corpse and head falling lifelessly to the ground. I stare at the ground, shaking my head over and over and trying my best not to bawl again. But he's gone! His soul is gone, only but a memory tantalizing me! I shall never hear his voice or enjoy his embrace. I told him not to forget that I love him...but only minutes earlier, he doubted my fidelity! Had I loved him enough? Did I kiss him deep enough or hold his hand tight enough?

I must look up, to survey the damage that I've done. I tilt my head up a fraction of a degree before I cannot proceed; the thick, scarlet ooze flows downhill from where he lies, leaving a noxious, ghastly trail in its wake. It makes its way down, nearly to my own shoes, at which I scream in horror, "Damn it all! Damn me! Damn the gods, those vicious, insidious vipers!" I collapse to the ground and unleash my incorrigible sobs and wails, echoing throughout the forest around me. Every negative emotion imaginable fight for dominance in my brain, among them wrath, vengeance, agony, and sorrow. My fists pummel the ground in outrage until my knuckles color a pasty blue.

"Lucina?" Amidst my mourning, a voice speaks my name, one of a man. I fear that my subconscious and guilt is playing games with me, but the voice comes again. "Lucina, I need to talk to you," he says, the voice easily discernable as none other than my Father.

I call his name out in response, my voice attenuated by my sobs, and peer over my shoulder. My father trots across the field, barely visible. The sun has since set, but I can still vaguely outline his regal attire. "Father, just a moment—"

 _"Now."_ I hold all due reverence for my father, but I often forget his parental authority over me. He is close to me in age, but he still holds dominion over me as any father would over his daughter. Gauchely, I scramble to my feet, brushing tears from my cheeks. I take reluctant steps in his direction.

"Y-yes, Father?" I stammer. He approaches, close enough so that I hear him exhaling through his nose. Peering up at him, I can see worry and pain clouding over his eyes. Gods...he must know already...

"It has grown dark. It is far past the time to be taking walks in the forest." His voice, though calm, sounded like a scold. "Who knows what could have become of you, should you have gotten lost!"

"No, Father...I apologize for my negligence." Relieved that he hadn't connected the dots quite yet, but I bow my head to furtively avoid making eye contact.

My father's face softens, likely because he notices the woe and distress on my face. With renewed serenity, he says, "I'm sorry as well...I didn't mean to sound angry, I was only worried for your safety. Surely you understand?"

"Yes, very much. In the future, you would always worry about my safety, making sure I was never venturing off alone without telling any of my whereabouts. I was guarded beyond what was necessary."

He laughs heartily. "I probably did. But hey, it kept you alive, didn't it?"

I open my mouth to speak against this point but decide against it.

Generally, my father's protective nature initially took me by surprise; his behavior towards me changed instantly. It is difficult for me to recall the time before he knew he was my father. Perhaps, part of that reasoning lies in the fact that my visits with him were limited in length and unremarkable in comparison. What I _can_ remember is the seemingly unconditional love he developed for me over the course of a mere week. I could never have foretold that Father, Mother, and all their Shepherds would take me in is their own following his example. I planned to keep my identity concealed and never cross pass with Father more than a needed to. But mistake after mistake has, ironically, brought me closer to Father here than in my own time.

Gods, what am I to say to them all? I know that when I first came here, my task was to execute whoever posed a threat to my father, but that goal was motivated by logic, not by love or emotion. In short, I was expecting to leave once all has been done to secure Father's future, as well as the world's, and attempt to start a true living. But I have earned the love of a father, mother, and partner, for which I had not rehearsed. Am I to lose all of these blessings in one foul night? My father's love for me _seems_ unconditional, but I still stand in fear of his rejection, especially after seeing his reaction to Emmeryn's demise."Lucina! What happened to your hands?" he exclaimed. He examined my fingers; the base knuckles were swollen and bruised, darkened to the color of my clothing.

"Lucina! What happened to your hands?" he exclaimed. He grabbed my wrists and examined my fingers. The base knuckles were swollen and bruised, darkened to the color of my clothing. Further along my fingers were small, web-like strands of blood from a slew of small cuts. I hardly remember my fit of rage leaving such injuries. "By gods, it looks like you tried to claw your way out of Hell!"

"..." What am I to say? I'm never one to lie or make alibis. Making untruths is not a skill in which I'm adroit. There is no use in lying to my father, for it's not like my wrongdoings will be overlooked if I leave them unsaid. The bloody corpse would be found in a matter of time. "Father..." I whisper, collapsing quickly into his grasp. Surprised, he stiffens, but his arms close around me, my head laying on his chest. "Please forgive me...I've done something unspeakably unjust..."

"There's nothing to forgive," he replies, which prompts me to cock a brow. "You're under so much pressure...but there are other ways to cope than this, and you don't need to go down this path."

"You misunderstand me," I interject with the shake of my head. He must think I self-harmed. "I would never mean to hurt myself, but if I did, it's not something I'd be upset about. Alas...they're nothing in comparison."

"Lucina—You're scaring me." He seized me by the biceps, forcing me back so he could better view me. His quizzical eyes bore into me, clouded by confusion and fear among many things. "Learning that one of your closest companions is hurting herself is quite grave...and you mean to say that you've done something worse?"

"Robin, Father," I croak, tears returning to my eyes. "I've done something with Robin...which you potentially may never forgive me for. But I ask for it sooner rather than later."

He studies my face first, slowly making his eyes trail down my body and pause at my waist. I cross my arms awkwardly while he watches me. "Are you telling me that you two...um—how do I say this politely..."

His face erupts into a vermillion red—I soon realize the motive behind his staring and my cheeks mirror his. "N-no! Absolutely not! Out here..? On the...no! This is no time for such a joke!" I cry. "If he...deflowered me, I would not disclose such information to you now..." I suppose there is no eluding to the topic now...what else could I have possibly done with him? "I can explain everything..."

His eyes shift to over my shoulder; I turn around to see what has occupied his attention, seeing my discarded Flachion in the soil, soaked in blood. "What did you do..?!" he yells as he pushed me firmly aside. I'm familiar with his tone of voice, full of contempt, a voice that he's never used against me before. I'm terrified...for I know how rash Father can be under the influence of his fury. He won't understand me...I've relinquished my first love for his safety—oh damn me for being selfish! It was no sacrifice on my part when contrasted to Robin's! What credit do I deserve?

" ** _Robin!_ ** Oh, bloody hell...this can't be—" he says weakly. "Oh, gods...how?!" Reluctantly, my eyes take the trail of blood to see the damage that I had inflicted. The sight was undoubtedly horrific! For a death so painless, it was appallingly graphic! The sanguine flow mercilessly poured from his arteries. Perhaps most horrifying was the severed head—and his face! His expression is so serene, so graceful, eyes already closed and mouth open, just like how he sleeps! His snow colored hair is stained from the crimson shampoo. I cannot bear to look even a moment longer; I shield my with my palm. "How _could_ you!?" he continues, to which I attempt to reply,

"Please, allow me t—"

"Have you lost your bloody mind?" curses my father. In my twenty-one years of life, my father scarcely used vulgarity; I must brace myself for some now. Though I cannot see him, my father stands inches in front of me, so near that his hot, vehement breath reaches my forehead. "You traitor! My own daughter!"

"Father, you don't understand—"

"No daughter of mine would even _consider_ taking the life of someone she loves!

"I..."

"Damn you, you reckless...wench! _Look at me, Lucina!_ "

My hand slowly falls to my side and I furtively glance at my father. If looks could kill, my soul would shatter at the core and I'd perish in an instant. Red-hot outrage brings color to his face and in his eyes lie a mixture of hurt mostly eclipsed by anger. It amplifies our already apparent difference in height, his puffed out chest and tensed muscles substantially intimidating me to step away.

"Are you _really_ my child? Your story is an outlandish one for sure, coming from the future, claiming that I'm your father? I heard how I had raised you in that realm, but I sure hope that you would know better than to kill an ally so gruesomely! And if you're not who you claim you are...then what is your true identity? What if you're a Plegian spy, just waiting for the right moment to slay us all? What kind of insidious monster are you, Lucina?" I give no reply, which prompts him to draw his own Falchion. "If I should even call you that..."

I cower away from his blade. Damn it all, where is mine? "You are angry, which is justified, but you know those acrimonious words are nothing but falsehoods!" I challenge in reply.

"What am I to believe? I thought my daughter was an honorable, respectable young woman, and now I've discovered my best friend's dead body and his blood soaking your blade! If you truly are my daughter...prove it on the battlefield. That is, perhaps, the only demonstration of Exalted blood!" He unsheathes his own Flachion and glares. No, this is the last thing I could have asked for! I slew one of the most beloved Shepherds of all to protect him, and now, he wants me to duel him? This is the farthest from protecting him I could get!

Yet, I have a decade and a half of sparring with my father under my belt—a tactical advantage. It is likely that I can predict his moves without him being so conscientious of them himself. Complacency is a risk, but it his perhaps my source of hope in an inescapable conflict. "The last thing I would ever suggest is hurting you, Father, and I hoped my testimony would concede such a statement. But, if it is a battle that you want, then I begrudgingly accept." Swiftly, I navigate my way to my discarded blade, still bloody where it lay. I flick some of the fluid off with my fingers before I prepare myself. I hold my blade above the upper-right-hand corner of my face with my blade pointed diagonally to the opposite corner. My hands are sore and weakened from my outburst before, but I make like the pain doesn't exist. "This defensive stance...you taught me this during my first lesson when I was a mere five years old," I say.

That remark begins to dilute my father's will to fight, evident in his hesitancy, but he makes no snarky reply and his offensive begins. His first move, easily predictable, is a lunge to the chest, to which I swat away with a parry. This move cannot possibly be a surprise to Father, likely a test of my readiness, for Father would never start with a move so primitive in the event that he was trying to kill me. He follows up with successive swings at either side, which I, again, block without much trouble, to his disdain.

"Tell me," he says, between blows, "how could you be protecting me by murdering my best friend?"

"It is _he_ who kills you in the future!" I duck to avoid a rather high blow and follow with an upward slash. "It was said that you were betrayed by someone you loved—it wasn't mother or myself, it is the only truth."

"Impossible!"

"I dare you to reconsider—ahh!" Though I can predict him, he is still a man, with stronger arms than me; despite my attempted counter, he grazes my arm and I hiss from the pain. "You're in denial..."

My father's eyes gravitated toward the small flesh wound on my arm. "I am not...damn you! You don't know what I feel!" I close my heart, perhaps that sentence a deeper wound than the one from moments before. It pains me to know how much he loves Robin, possibly more than I do—it pains me further that my father feels alone in his suffering. "My heart is broken..." He takes to the air in a grandiose flip, shouting as his body and blade twirl like a shuriken and descend upon me like the rains of a monsoon. This move is a finisher to any opponent my father took on, but I've (with luck) managed to block it. I ready myself in my father's defensive and shift my weight onto my left leg. Eyes closed and body tense, I brace.

The blade clashes loud enough to pierce my left eardrum and leave it to ring hauntingly. With all of my body's strength channeled into that one leg, my father's blade neglects to touch my skin again. "My heart is broken, too!"

His scowl falters; he looks into my eyes, upon the mark lying within it. "How did you—"

"You taught me. Father, I beg, a duel will only cause more pain to the victor... So please," I whisper. "I don't expect forgiveness, but for the sake of our allies...no more dead bodies. No fighting. Allow me to elucidate..." We both lower our swords, ceasing our sparring. "I know you didn't mean your words...from earlier, but I cannot blame you for what I said."

"I just don't understand," my father says weakly.

"Then let me tell you." The goal is to be able to do so and hold my tears until I conclude. "In the future, you perish at the hands of a close friend. Today...when Robin fell under the control of Validar, it became obvious Robin would be the culprit. It hurt me...it tortured me to accept this truth, but I went through with my dastardly judgment in the end..." I close my eyes and shake my head. "When I came to this timeline, I never expected things to go this way. I never thought that you would see that I'm your daughter, and even then, I wasn't sure you'd take me in like you did. I never thought I'd let my emotions sway my ability to my job, but then I fell in love...and I had to choose to secure the future or follow my heart. I know the last thing you'd do is agree with what I've done."

"I would have never..." Father laments, halfway to crying himself. "My heart is the only compass I need."

"I know that, Father. But I...Oh gods, this is so difficult for me to explain. You and Mother rarely gave me the time to explain my feelings as I grew up, forgive me." A warm wind blows from the east and throws locks of my hair in front of my eyes. From behind the strands of blue, I lock eyes with him. "When I left my world, I was motivated by nothing but the grief and suffering of my losses. I lost you in my timeline while I had so much to say...so much to learn from you. I was left in the castle to defend the Fire Emblem and the remainder of the citizens. Day after day, I watched my allies perish...I lost hope. And this pain—I used it to motivate me as I came into this world. The pain kept me going to slay every Risen soldier that came way."

I force myself to smile sadly. "The day that I accidentally called you Father...the change was instant. I never even considered that a possible fate, because I feared the results and the ripples it would have created in the timeline. But oh, how I was wrong...you were tender and affectionate, you reached out a hand for me to grasp. And through our long fireside conversations, our 'lessons' in swordplay and those playful wagers, your warm embraces, something phenomenal occurred." My throat tightens. "My grief and sorrow finally disappeared. You gave me faith in myself; you gave me the strength to carry on; I've never been so close to anyone as I am close to you. You are my hero, Father...the reason I haven't submitted to despair. And soon, that familial love became the reason for my existence. It's so selfish of me...but I just..." The tears run down my cheeks, filling into my dry lips and the corners of my smile, which turned an overwhelmed frown. "I can't lose you! Not now...not while we're so close to the end...I loved Robin, but I  _lived_ for you..!"

For what feels like the hundredth time tonight, I bawl into my palms, tangled in the bangs that fell on my face. "I love you, Father..! I will beg for your forgiveness and your approval with my dying breath!" My dramatic monologue comes to a dramatic end while I choke on my own sobs. "I deserve...every ounce of disdain from you...but gods, I pray—that you'll find it in your heart to forgive me..."

I feel his arms shackle me in a warm hug around my shoulders, with his face tucked next to my ear in the crook of my neck. He's at a loss for words, but I feel his lips place a kiss upon my cheek. He sniffles quietly—he must be crying too. This only makes my emotions spill out more violently. "I'm so sorry..." I repeat ceaselessly like a mantra into his clavicle, where my face lay. He caresses my head and entangles his fingers in my hair. Bless his heart...his beautiful, unselfish, infinitely forgiving heart...

"We can suffer the loneliness together," he whispers sweetly into my ear. "It's better than suffering alone..."

I grin. My hands, raw, bruised, and bloody, pull him closer. "Aptly put, Father...aptly put." 

**Author's Note:**

> That was my first angst fanfiction, so I'd appreciate any criticisms you have. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Special thanks to a user on the app Geeking who proofread this work for me. His name is @Mike_the_madri .
> 
> I was listening to the song "Hero" by Mariah Carey on repeat as I read the last two thousand words and practically crying. Poor Lucina...


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